


Tide

by mitsurii



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Enemies to Lovers, Game of Thrones - Freeform, GoT, Romance, help me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:28:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29612898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mitsurii/pseuds/mitsurii
Summary: In Westeros, the blood of treachery flows as commonly as water, and liars rule the lands with no sign of leaving. Thrown into the lions den, a bastard is left at the mercy of at the mercy of a queen in a city as foreign to her as the Seven. She is Addy, stormborn and she does not kneel.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is story is a repost of one of my wattpad stories, with more edits and some alterations to plot. enjoy addy’s story and be scared bc she may or may not be a monster at the end of this story

**_Bastards are tricky little things. They are born out of short-lived passion, a quick desire or a bad decision. Many say bastards grow up faster then other children, and in some ways, they are more then right. They learn how cruel the world can be before anyone else._ **

"The sea is always moving, always changing, always flowing somewhere else, to other people," the woman explained to the girl perched on her lap. It was a miserable day today; fog filled the air witha dense grey mist, blocking sunlight’s path. 

Roaring against the harsh winds, the midnight black sea crashed against the brown rocks the girls were sitting on, then retreated back into the dark waves. The sea had always been bleak as the islands it lapped on. 

The girl couldn't be a day over five yet her training had already started. Blisters and small cuts littered her pink hands and legs- tell tale signs of a guard in training. Long, salt-crusted blonde hair ran down her back. 

Just like the majority of the islands people, she and her companion were descendants of merchants and natives. Brownish skin and bright hairs were common as dirt here but an anomaly on the mainland. Her skin rested at a light brown, the woman’s much darker in colour. 

Wind had beaten her cheeks and the tip of her nose as red as rubies. Her eyes were a lazy sea green, dull as sea glass. Draping over her puny body were a pair of faded blue trousers that just about grazed her ankles, a worn-looking leather belt the colour of clay, and a cream ashirt messily tucked into it.

"I thought the sea only comes to us," she replied, studying the waves with admirable curiosity. The woman giggled.

"And I thought you were clever for your age, Addy," she said teasingly, earning an angry grunt from the girl sat in her lap. Her dirt-brown locks were braided neatly, tucked behind a vivid headscarf. Her young, pretty face matched her young pretty name; Sidra. “Come on, we best get back inside before it starts to rain." She scooped Addy up, much to her disapproval, and carried her off to home. 

The journey was short, Addy's little house was only a few minutes from the beach, a small stone affair up the beaten path. Sidra hoisted Addy up on her shoulders- not a huge feat, being as Sidra was used to carrying canvas bags full of fish or stone rather than children. 

Addy reached out for the ripe apples on the old trees, dropping them behind her when she saw caterpillars and flies gnawing at the raw yellow flesh. Eventually, the thick fog turned into an agitating light rain that wet Addy's hair through. By the time they reached home, the sky had turned a menacing black and thunder boomed warnings. 

Nana raised a judgmental eyebrow. The next of Sidra’s headscarf was well in development in her lap, as well as a bowl of seeded bread. 

Sidra swung the door open with her foot and placed Addy on the floor with a thump. "I'm going to see Rodal, see you later Nana!". Without another word, the door was slammed shut and Sidra disappeared into the rain. The old woman sighed. 

"Where's Sidra going?" Addy asked, still peering out the window. Nana chuckled quietly, absorbed in her knitting. "Is she going to get her boyfriend?"

She groaned, slumping into the cushions of the window seat. Nana nodded. Addy didn't get boyfriends. Let alone boys themselves. She slumped down into the cushions, swinging her legs trying to waste energy. 

She hated the house. Sidra always said she belonged outside, playing in the sea and running in the fields. Nana shook her head at the abundance of cuts and bruises her bare legs boasted, accompanied by a modest cut on her eyebrow that would most likely leave a scar.

"Addy, you are much too young to be fighting," she warned, sneering at the abundance of injuries.

"They said I was a bastard, so I hit them," she admitted, her head in her hands. Nana paused her knitting, her peaceful eyes inspecting Addy's embarrassed blush. Gently, she sighed, and motioned for the lass to sit on her lap. Addy climbed up her legs and flopped onto her lap.

"When I was a child, my mother used to tell me about soulmates," she said as Addy fidgeted impatiently, "She said that in the olden days, when someone was cut or hurt, the mark would appear on their soulmates. Maybe this one," she gestured towards a rather nasty looking blemish just below her knee, "Is from your soulmates skin." Addy pondered on that fact, rubbing her eyes.

Nana loved all the stories about love and soulmates, about knights, princesses and frogs who fall in love and live happily ever after. If anything, it just made Addy want to stay alone more.

"No, I got that because I tripped on the rocks yesterday," Addy naively replied, pressing into the bruise, only to yelp in pain. "Nana, what's a bastard?"

"I'll tell you when you're a older, little one." Addy stared up to the older woman. Her beaten face was plastered with wrinkles that hid her old eyes, and her lips were so thin you could barely see them. Sidra said she was beautiful once, many many years ago. Frustrated, Addy grumbled and bounced off the grandmother's lap.

"I'll find out myself!" she said stubbornly, going to open the door. She pulled with all her might, but it was locked shut. Addy frowned, staring at Nana. "Unlock the door," she said sourly.

"I'll tell you when you are old enough to understand. How about your seventh name-day?" She sternly put the idea forward. The child, stunned by the sudden stern reply, nodded miserably. "Good." Nan retuned to her knitting. "Stubborn girl. It will get you nowhere, my sweet. Nowhere except trouble and suffering."


	2. Treason

**299 AC**

**KING’S LANDING,** eddard stark's excecution

**TWO YEARS LATER**

_It was true_ , Addy realised. Ned Stark's head rolled around the ground for a second. She wanted to be sick, to vomit all over her uncle, but she held it in somehow. It was hard. The gore, the blood. Lady Sansa's gut-wrenching screams filled the summer air, filling it with a sense of dread and horror that Addy has never felt.

Terrified, she clutched her uncle's arm, hiding behind him, protecting herself. Even the queen was in shock, the queen Sidra had said had heartless and as cold as ice.

Killaban had told her this would be good for her. To see the mainland, to watch Kilaban and learn from her uncle, to watch how the nobles act. Not to watch a Stark beheaded. 

Cersei was obviously stunned and confused about her son's split-second decision, grabbing Joffery's arm and shaking him like he was a sleeping child. Maybe she should stop listening to Sidra. Nearly everything she told her about King's Landing was a well-worded lie. The roof wasn't paved in gold, there were only a few handsome knights and only one sickly looking princess.

Kilban tucked the shivering girl away behind him, taking her hand and giving it a slightly reassuring squeeze. King Joffery turned around, a huge grin plastered on his face. Addy desperately wanted to behead him.

The late King Robert didn't look anything like the young prince, well, not to Addy's knowledge. He'd kicked the bucket a few days after they'd arrived, and she'd only seen him in person twice. He and the Stark seemed good friends. If he was still kicking, Addy thought to herself, Lord Stark wouldn't be a headless man.

"You see what happens to my treasonous enemies, Captain," he warned, a wretched smile creasing his face. Killaban stared at the body once more and nodded in defeat. He was lucky he wasn’t on scaffold too. Him and Addy could bet they were the only northerners that weren’t dead or worse. 

"Come on pup, we should go," Kilban held his niece's hand, leading her back to their small quarters in the Red Keep hurriedly.The guards let them pass, giving the respected captain a courteous nod. One of them gave a worried but reassuring smile to the whimpering girl, announcing the traitor's death as right and just. Addy wondered if Nedd Stark was really a traitor.

As they passed through the streets, escorted by some of the Isle guards, a sickly, thick silence filled the air. Addy could still smell the metallic scent of blood, hanging in the air like a thief. Addy’s red hands wrapped still as stone around his, unmoving.

"Will there be war now?" she asked, sitting on her borrowed bed. The bedsheets were linen and embroidered with gold, nothing like the straw bed she'd slept in at home. In comparison, it was like she was sleeping on a cloud.

Killaban grunted a response she couldn't quite make out but she could predict. "Can I fight? I want to fight for the Starks-" she exclaimed before her uncle hastily covered her mouth. His eyes narrowed in frustration. 

"Do you know how many ears and eyes surround this castle? If anyone whispers what you said to the queen, me and you would face a fate worse then Ned's," he growled quietly, successfully terrifying the already shocked girl. Submissively, she nodded, her quiet answer muffled in his hand.

"Fine,” she said glumly, absolutely refusing to cry in front of him. Kilban sighed, putting a gentle hand on her scrawny shoulder. He was wearing leather gloves, even in the blaring summer heat. Many of the guards had laughed and called him a true Northern man. Rather be too hot than under protected. 

"One day, maybe you'll be so cursed marry a Stark. Maybe you’ll make a name for yourself, start your own house, or join another. Or you'll marry a minor Lannister or Baratheon if you’re remarkably lucky," he announced loudly, trying to catch the attention of the guards outside, before leaning into her shoulder and whispering, "I can't afford to lose anymore friends here. An alliance with the Lannisters is safe. If we publicly side with the Starks, they'll destroy us before any troops can get to Winterfell." He sighed. "What have I come to? A servant to the lions.” 

"I can swing a sword too! I nearly cut the head off that boy, remember?" she boasted, quickly forgetting about the recent trauma and remembering it all over again. "I can't marry a Stark, uncle. I'm a bastard. But maybe one day I'll be recognised and I'll be a Snow like you." She smiled. Kilban stared at the girl, a little surprised by her blunt answer.

"Very well, Addy. You will have to make a name for yourself." The two spent the night quietly talking in her room. They tried to avoid talking about the recent events like a deadly disease, though Addy unintentionally grazed on the subject a few times. Addy moaned about wanting to train, but her uncle solemnly refused. Kilban decided this was no time for training. The town was still in chaos, some of them cheering on the Lord's death and some angrily disagreeing with his murder. They were quickly dealt with, like water to a candle. He knew which side he would love to take, but knew his duty called to the side of his enemies.

"Will the weans be safe?" She enquired as the sun slowly set on King's Landing. Her uncle shrugged bluntly. He'd never bothered to lie for Addy's sake. Addy let out a simple "Oh...". She'd only seen Sansa at the execution and ran across Arya once or twice. In fact, she'd helped her catch a cat, an activity the Stark didn't explain. and she'd never seen the sons at home or Lady Stark. One of them, the cripple, was about her age. She wondered if he was scared. She wondered if he was safe.

"That's for the Gods to decide, pup." He stood up, then glanced back at his niece. Her normally vibrant eyes looked tired and droopy as she seemed struggling to stay awake. "Sleep well tonight. I'll have breakfast sent up to you," he said, pressing a small kiss on her forehead, "Pretend you are sick tomorrow,I don't want you anywhere near that damned king or the court," he murmured in his ear. She nodded obediently, wishing him good night. As soon as he left the room, she collapsed into bed, yet her tired bones refused to rest. Sleep was normally never a stranger. Slowly, she began to drift into rest. 

_She was in an unfamiliar place, a strange place. Snow sprinkled slowly from the lazy grey sky, like salt from the fat fingers of a fish merchant. Old, stone walls covered in sprawls of ivy and moss thicker then fur. She was in a tunnel, surrounded by tired torches. It couldn't be the Isle, no. She couldn't hear the roar of the sea, just a eerie quiet._

_A raven cawed curiously from outside, she wanted to see it but her foot wouldn't move an inch. Now, there were footsteps, light ones of a child. The raven was in sight now, but something was wrong. There was a glistening eye where no eye should be. A three-eyed bird glared at her, cawing. A boy, maybe a little older then her, ran into the tunnel after the dark bird. Dark brown hair that covered his forehead and grazed to his chin, deep, curious eyes and skin almost as pale as the snow. The children stared at each other with fear. The raven cawed_.

She was awakened by a harsh knock on the door before it swung open. Quickly, she coughed, and lay in bed, trying her best to look weak. A plump servant lay a tray of breakfast on her lap sympathetically, flashing her a warm, possibly sincere smile. When the door shut behind her, Addy wolfed down the breakfast like a starving animal.It was simple today. Two sausages and an egg. Kilban had, with no doubt, a grand breakfast to 'celebrate' the traitors death. She tried not to think about it much. But the image of Ned Stark's headless body wouldn't leave her mind.

Kilaban had encouraged her to try and gain some weight in King's Landing. She stuck out like a sore thumb compared to the rest of the women in court. They were curvy, full-featured and healthy-looking. Addy was thinner then most of the scrawniest servants. The Isle didn't have much of any food other then fish, potatoes and bread, and even then, the prices were raising.

A day spent in bed is a boring one. She didn't dare move, just in case the guards heard. She spent the day staring at people through the small window in her room that barely stretched over three centimetres. The execution scaffold was still standing, an eerie trail of dried blood leading from the block. A warning, she supposed.

Curiously, she watched children escape from their mother's arms and run around the city, she watched guards banter happily on their watch, she watched a fat ginger cat leap from red rooftop to red rooftop until it disappeared out of sight along a swollen horizon. After the cat left her attention, she gave up on pretending to be asleep and engaged in a mighty battle with an invisible King Joffery. In combat, she preferred the minute dagger she always held at her waist, Queen. Well, she hasn't decided on a name for it quite yet.

The Isle guards had laughed when she showed it to them, complimenting the worn blade. They told her each great blade had a name, but no matter how hard she pondered on potential titles, none stuck. Until she could find one that was interesting, it was Queen.

She thrust it into the imaginary king, and he collapsed to the floor, clutching the wound. She'd saved for months to buy it from the weapons merchant in Fishguard, and he watched her worriedly as she snatched it from his hands and swung it blindly around for hours in the streets. The guards had to drag her back home before she stabbed someone.

"It's like I'm in prison here," she mumbled to herself, slumping against the stone wall tiredly, snarling in boredom. There weren't even any books, just an old painting of a river. A boring river, grey and misty. She'd had enough of grey and misty. It reminded her too much of home.

The sun was shining brightly, as it did in the South. A blue sky was a welcome rarity at home. A soft breeze kept her confined room cool. Better then a harsh wind from the North that battered her face ruddy and messed up her perfect braids. Even so, she found herself missing the cold sea of home even more. If she peered out of the window far enough, she could see a sea, but it wasn't hers. It was blue and bright, and lapped gently against golden beaches. Her sea was darker then night, and held no mercy, crashing against the rocks.

Kilban and Nana had told her stories about when the Isle was invaded by the Greyjoys, the house of the miserable Iron Islands. The Isle was only a day or two trip away from the islands, and just as grey. Already fighting the rebellion, the Starks sent their own men to fight amongst the guards to protect the people from the ruthless Greyjoys. Kilban bragged about slitting the throats of some upstart sell-swords who bragged about feeding his fingers to the dogs. Whenever she was sad, he'd tell her that story unless Nana was around.

And she wondered why the other girls were terrified by her. 


	3. Bastard of the Grey Rocks

_She'd be going home tomorrow_. That's all that mattered. She admired King's Landing, no doubt about it. She liked the strange smells and the heat, she liked the extravagant dresses all the ladies wore, she liked the guards in their crimson red robes. 

But the mainland made her uneasy. Even Killaban, a man whose life took him all over Westeros, never liked to stay away from home for more than a year. 

All she needed to do today was go with Uncle Kilban to pledge to the King, then one more night in silken bedsheets until it's back to straw. She wouldn’t stay away for long though. Killaban had convinced Sidra that it was time for Addy to begin to accompany him on these journeys, ready to prepare her as his replacement. The job of general of such well connected islands called for travel often. Addy couldn’t wait. 

As she rose, she ruffled her beach blonde hair and rubbed her eyes free of sleep. Climbing out of bed, she crawled towards a second-hand mirror that had been placed next to the window. It had a large crack that span from the left corner to the middle, but Addy didn't mind much. She didn't even have a mirror had at home, she used a puddle or a shard of glass if she could find one.

Skilfully, she braided her hair in Greystone tradition. They were practical and rough in stark contrast to the intricate hairstyles of southern ladies. Afterwards, she slipped on the best and only dress she packed; a light blue woollen dress with white embroidery at the collar and hem. The freedom of skirts was a luxury, though she disliked the tightness of it’s waist.

“Morn, pup.” Killaban waited outside, joined by a few guards. He towered over every man in the room, his deep mahogany skin sticking out against the pale creams of the Lannisters. “You’re about to meet the King.” 

King meant very little to Addy and her uncle. The Greystone Islands had always been a nation left alone by the crown and the more independent north. A boy king in a faraway mainland meant very little. Even if he could do anything to her. 

Killaban lifted her up like a toddler and for once she didn’t object. Addy hadn’t quite gotten used to staircases, and the one leading to their quarters were steep and chipped, a perfect recipe for tripping. 

“You aren’t to speak unless you’re spoken too. Be polite, be kind, be the sweet little girl they want to see,” Killaban said. Addy nodded against his metal breastplate, the cool iron pressing painfully into her cheek. She almost fell asleep in the way to the throne room, blaming it on the early morning.

So much so, tiredness overcame her as they entered the King’s audience. 

“Is she awake, or did you bring a sleeping girl to the King?” 

A woman’s sharp voice awoke her from the trance and Addy blinked rapidly. 

Her uncle was kneeling before the boy king, and his golden-haired mother was perched over his shoulder like an inquisitive parrot. She looked troubled, as if her son had done another thing stupidly. Queen Cersei was beautiful, more than a pretty face. Golden ringlets bounced down her chest. Her venomous eyes seemed always to be hiding something behind them. 

By the gods, she hated his hideous grin, it sent shivers up her spine every time she saw it, even before he executed the Stark.

”I apologise your Grace. My niece isn’t one for mornings,” he said gruffly. 

“Children,” she smiled, keeping her eyes on Addy. An outsider could mistaken them as mother and daughter, with blonde hair, bright eyes and high cheekbones. “Mine are the same,” the queen said, her smile as charming as she could muster. Unlike her son, she knew curtesy, and at least tried to look invested.

"Aren't you a pretty sight? Don't be shy, come here my darling." Addy obeyed, slowly making her way to the side of her uncle. Joffery was smirking at her. Kilban was cursing silently under his breath, glaring harshly at Addy as she knelt beside him. She was almost shivering, pure terror taking away the blush from her face.

The galleries were empty; aside from an auburn-haired Stark. Her eyes were red and tired, and her cheek was sinisterly lined with a gloved hand.

"Another bastard?" Joffery teased, like he was trying to earn a hard slap to the face. Cersei scowled decisively at her son, but her dirty looks didn't affect him like Addy. "Gods, how many are there on your islands now, Captain?"

"I couldn't say, your Grace," he grunted, taking an arm around Addy. Her uncle was a strange-looking man, handsome in his younger days no doubt, but his nose was broken and twisted and a scraggy black beard covered his scarred chin. A mop of black hair covered his scalp loyally, his eyes the colour of worn steel. It was more then obvious that he was not ready for this discussion.

"Do the bastards of House Abery stand proudly, Captain?" Cersei asked, perhaps trying to lighten the situation.

"Addy is not a recognised bastard your Grace, but the male bastards are taken care of in Mantill Rock," he said honestly. Addy stared at the queen. It was hard to tell if it was admiration, fear or hate. Joffery laughed.

"Perhaps we should adopt this method, dear mother," he snickered. "Doesn't the little one look like dear Myrcella, mother? Same hair." Addy awkwardly averted his gaze, still looking at the queen, almost as a plea of help. Cersei nodded, a small smile still plastered on her stained face.

"What is your name, child?" Cersei asked, sitting down on a plump stool beside the Iron Throne. Addy had never seen anything like it. Thrones were potent enough, but a throne made of swords could make even the bravest man kneel.

"Addy, your Grace,"she replied, struggling to remain awake. 

Cersei stepped down closer to Addy. On instinct, the girl’s brow furrowed, making the queen chuckle. Joffery had become disinterested quickly, tormenting Killaban further. 

“Captain, I believe we can come to an agreement to over look your northern alliances. This bastard girl of yours would be wasted as soldier. I propose to take her as a ward in exchange for your loyalty to the throne.” 

Addy froze again, looking desperately at her uncle. "My father in Casterly Rock would be delighted at the news of your support.” 

"Killaban," she whined, grabbing his hands and forcing him to look her in the eyes. He'd always told her wards were just hostages taken after war to threaten their houses- not out of kindness. 

"A token of respect. We wouldn't want you to ally with the Starks again, Captain," Joffery said, taking after his mother in words but not in manners. Kilban knelt down beside his niece, taking her bony hands in his own.

"Addy-"

"Don’t leave! I need to go home!”

"Addy," he said sternly, all kindness vanishing from his words. Quickly, she shut up. "Addy, you'll be protected here. If you stay, you'll be protecting everyone at home. I'm sure his majesty will allow you to send us letters." Joffery, with the urging of his mother, nodded. "Do you want everyone to be safe?” 

Addy bowed her head submissively, looking down to the floor. "Yes, Uncle." He touched her shoulder gently.

"Then you stay, pup. You can have a life, an education here," he leaned in to whisper, as he always did, "or I'll have their heads." She let out a sad giggle, that sounded more like a sob.

"Very well. Maester, if you could help the Captain and I to make the arrangements?" she demanded, obviously very satisfied with the result of her plea. “Say your goodbyes.” 

Killaban wrapped his arms around his niece protectively. Her eyes stung and the temptation to cry was strong but she felt no urge to weep. 

“I’ll be back when I can. You won’t have to spend anymore than a year here,” he whispered in her ear, sure that no one could hear him. “These fucking bastards won’t have you for long, Ad.” 

Gently, he placed her down and ruffled her hair once more. He stepped up to the maester. Addy went to follow, but was stopped by a firm arm grabbing her hand.

"With me, little one," she cooed, leading her away from the throne. Holding in stinging tears, she walked with the lady down corridors that she didn't recognise, full of strangely dressed women who sneered at her plain clothes.

“You will collect your things, and then we shall find you some proper...court dresses." Her grip was firmer then Addy has expected of a lady, and she struggled against her hand. "As a ward, you act as a foster child to the Queen, you will do as she commands, and you will serve Princess Myrcella until you are released," she explained enthusiastically, as they climbed up the steps to her room.

Addy nodded, overwhelmed with the new knowledge. Tears overpowered her stubbornness now, freely running down her cheeks as the sight of her uncle slowly disappeared around the corner. 

Sniffing, she looked up to get a good glimpse at the lady. Her ash brown hair was styled carefully like porcelain like everyone else. The lady's eyes were a misty shade of green and boasted large eyelashes that fluttered every time she blinked. A detailed dress the colour of a sunflower's sweet petals hung around her shoulders and waits, adorned with fine embroidery.

"Do you like it? I made it myself, you know. Maybe I'll make a dress for you one day." Addy had a limited concept on dresses, as they weren’t the most practical clothes on the island, but even she could see just how skilled she has to be to make such a fine gown. “My name is Edlyn, and I’ll be looking after you.” 

She ushered Addy into her room, where hastily packed her things. Maybe this was a time to break down and cry. No, she thought, she wouldn't cry. Her clothes only took a minute to gather, and she pondered if she should stuff the silk bedsheets in between them. Lady Edlyn waited patiently in the door way, carefully watching her every move. "Come on, quickly!" Addy obeyed, hurrying out of the door, a small bundle of clothes in her arms. Taking her arm, Edlyn lead her back down the stairs.

_A new life awaited. She wasn’t excited._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “don’t leave” is gonna come up a lot lads warning you now


	4. The Princess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> no aha don’t fall in love with the person you can never be with addy ahaha 😐

"Lady Myrcella, may I have the honour of introducing you to Miss Addy your new handmaid," Lady Edlyn said as she placed Addy in front of the beaming princess.

Addy bowed respectfully, not bothering to smile anymore. Anything that made her look like the Queen was something undesirable now. Myrcella bounced off her bed, and took Addy's hands enthusiastically. The girl scowled in response. 

"It's lovely to meet you...Addy," she said strangely.. Her golden-blonde hair ran down her back, just like her mother. It was scary how much they looked like each other. She was dressed just as grandly; a intricate golden necklace lay on her ruby-encrusted dress.

Even though only eight, Addy was smart enough to know she was way above her station. She was expecting to just be following around the queen, maybe even be Lady Sansa’s handmaiden. Perhaps the Queen had a plan. 

"A pleasure to meet you m'lady," Addy replied bluntly, giving up on formality. Myrcella seemed unfazed by her bluntness. 

"Are you from the North? I went there a few months ago, it's so cold." She gestured for Lady Edlyn to leave, and took Addy to sit on her bed. It was even grander then her former room. Tapestries woven with red and gold lined the wooden walls, telling silent stories of princesses and knights. The bed was grander then the Iron Throne - a four poster, with linen curtains and a red bedsheet embroidered flowers. _Spoiled_ , Addy thought. 

"The Greystone Islands, m'lady," Addy answered, snatching her hand away from hers, crossing her arms grumpily. Myrcella's face showed a tinge of hurt. A princess could not used to rejection. Immediately filled with guilt, Addy squirmed uncomfortably and looked away. 

"Oh. Well, it's nice to meet you Addy. As my handmaiden, you'll be attending me. You'll come with me to embroidery classes and my reading lessons, oh and history. History's a little boring," Myrcella joked. Education didn’t sound much fun. 

"Why learn to sow when you can learn to fight?" Addy asked coldly, staring at nothing in particularly. Myrcella laughed. 

"Oh gods, you're serious?" she said, stunned.

"Eh? Of course! Learning to swing a sword over a needle will do more favours than you think, m’grace!” 

Myrcella laughed again, a good-natured, warming laugh. Addy realised that she wasn't like her brother at all, nothing like him. She seemed kind, but Addy couldn't trust her quite yet. The Lannisters were not to be trusted. Even the innocent ones.

"Ladies don't fight," Myrcella argued, staring at Addy, fascinated, "Who taught you how to fight?"

"My uncle. I was supposed to be a guard before I was...” she resisted saying taken, “adopted as a ward. I could teach you if you'd like."

"I'll stick to sowing, I think," she said, still smiling. "Do you have a sword?"

"Not anymore. I've got a dagger, though. Queen. Would you like to see it?" she asked arrogantly. Myrcella nodded feverishly. Carefully, Addy unsheathed her dagger and placed it in Myrcella's hands. "It took me months to save up and buy it. It’s only seen the flesh of training dummies, but maybe I’ll use it one day.” 

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Myrcella gazed longingly at the small blade, as delicate as her. Addy wondered if she'd misjudged the friendly princess. "Joffery says women have weak hearts, and shouldn't fight. He says we're too emotional."

Addy scoffed, taking the blade. She flipped it with pride back into her belt. "Well, I will have to prove him wrong, m'lady." Myrcella giggled childishly, tucking a strand of blonde behind her ear.

"I enjoy your talk, Addy, but I have to wonder. How on earth were you taken in as a ward? You’re a bastard!” she pondered curiously. Addy looked up to her inquisitive face. The word, as much as tried to hide it, dragged her spirits through the mud.

“The Greystone’s Guards are an independent faction. Not owned by House Abery. My uncles captain, and I'm his only living relative. I think your mother has took me in exchange for the guards. Just in case he joins the Starks in the North," Addy sneered, back to her usual cold self. "Have you met the Starks?" 

"My family stayed with them when my father asked Lord Stark to be the Hand of the King. One of their sons is one of the most handsome men I've ever met...what was his name? Oh, Robb! And poor Bran fell from a tower as well, bless him. He's a cripple now. It's a shame really, he wanted to be a knight, and when you fought Tommen he bested him every time. But to be terribly honest, Tommen isn't the strongest fighter..."she burst out loudly, relaying a little too much information. Addy nodded, confused but not willing to interrupt.

“Well, Reena will be returning soon.She's gone home for a week, but she'll be back soon. You'll be friends, I'm sure!" Addy was very confident that they would not be friends. 

After a gruelling two hours of girl talk, a servant with eyes too big for his face announced it was time for dinner. Dinner, Addy hungrily thought, as her and the princess bounced down the stairs. She hadn't ate much of anything since her uncle left and now was more then ravenous.

The hustle and bustle of a busy state dinner was louder then she'd expected. Sweet smells of honeyed hams, steaming bowls of peas and carrots, sausages bigger then her head, cheeses that could take months to eat. "I think you're next to Lady Sansa. Poor girl, Joffery hasn't been treating her well at all," Myrcella whispered in her ear as they entered. Obeying, Addy sat next to the red-eyed Sansa as her lady plopped herself down near Tommen. Joffery was announcing something, but she couldn't be bothered to listen. Addy was too busy thinking of something to say to Sansa that wouldn't make her burst into tears. After minutes of complementation and rehearsals in her mind, she finally spoke up.

"You're brave, m’lady," She said as gently as she could, not mustering the courage to look her in the eye.

"Thank you," she managed a weak smile, "You look like my sister," she said. Addy nodded, then leaned into her.

"My uncle's promised to join the Stark rebellion once I get out of here. Your family is under the Isle's watch, my lady. The North remembers." Sansa, stunned by her ruthless words, nodded, her smile dropping. The rest of the evening was fairly uneventful, with only two knights collapsing from drunkenness. Addy and Sansa ate in silence, Addy only speaking up to warn the lady whenever Joffrey approached.

That night, Addy reunited with Lady Edlyn. "Your room is here, Addy," she gestured towards a small side room that was barely the quarter of the size of Myrcella's. It was adjourned onto the princess'. It wasn't the grandest affair, but anything that wasn't straw was good enough for her. She slept like a babe that night, her head tired from the busy day.

_She was in the place again, the snowy place. The raven cawed again. The boy appeared again. She couldn't move again. "Who are you?" He called, a sturdy wooden bow in his hand. She tried to answer, but the words couldn't escape from her mouth. She was stuck like a fly in honey. The boy followed the raven down the tunnel, not leaving her eyes, with a suspicious look in his eyes. As he went past her, he took her hand, and lead down the tunnel. She could move, but she couldn't speak. Strange dream. He lead her down into a deep, damp crypt. Spiders crawled to their reclusive corners. It was filled with old statues, with small names plates at their feet. The boy hurriedly ran to the end of crypt, taking Addy with him. A new statue was_ _there._

_Eddard Stark. The statue didn't look much like him, Addy thought. "My father's not dead..." the boy murmured. Addy tried to speak again, but the words faded again. He looked up at her, confusion in his eyes. "I don't understand." She unhelpfully stared. "He isn't dead. He isn't dead."_

Staring at the large amounts of guards and solider piled to guard King's Landing, Addy knew it was true. No one dared to raise a word that dismissed the King in any way, or have their eyes or tongue cut out and thrown into the streets. Addy turned around from the window, stretched her thin arms, then climbed out of bed.

She was lucky, her bed was placed next to a window, much wider then the last, that kept her cool during hot nights and gave her spectacular view of the city. It was strange. Just a week ago, she'd been sleeping in bundles of scrappy blankets and straw. Sunrise blossomed over the city like a late flower, the sun's bright rays lighting up the streets.

Yawning, she ruffled out of her oversized tunic, and selected from a variety of old dresses Myrcella had given her. "They're all too small for me, they'll fit you," she'd said as she thrust a brightly coloured bundle into her arms. From the array, she picked a dark red dress, with Lannister lions sown onto the hems. It was nothing like the grand and flamboyant dresses that Myrcella adored. But maybe it would earn her a little more respect, and perhaps the slightest regard from the queen, from the ladies and lords that seemed determined to hate her. Addy pressed her ear against the door as she changed, hearing nothing but light snores.

Sighing in dissatisfaction, Addy continued to pull the gown over her shoulders, praying she wouldn't rip it. Lady Edlyn had suggested a corset, but Addy disagreed. She was as skinny as a stray dog as it was, diverging from the lady's healthier looking chest. Addy hoped to gain some weight before people started mistaking her for a skeleton.

She glanced at her reflection in the mirror, letting out a small smile as she braided her hair. There was no way she was wearing her hair like a southern lady again; it pulled her hair so painfully and feeling it in her signature loose plaits were much comfier. 

Quietly, she entered Myrcella's room, then harshly shook her shoulders. Stirring, the Princess didn't wake, murmuring something about mermaids. "Wake up. It's sunrise," Addy said cold, still shaking her shoulder. The princess whined. 

"Sunrise is too early. Wake me back up in two hours," Myrcella snuggled back into her pillow. Addy grunted.

"Sunrise is when everyone gets up m'lady," Addy laughed, then paused when she realised Myrcella was deadly serious "Or is that just in the North, princess?" the half-asleep princess giggled hysterically, even though the situation wasn't that funny. Easily amused, Addy guessed.

"You are silly, Addy. The Northern ways are very strange," she said between laughs, unintentionally hurting the girl a little. Addy shrugged it off, sharing her playful smile. She was sitting on the corner of Myrcella's huge bed, occasionally slipping off much to her amusement. The girl propped herself up against plump pillows, sighing. "We're at war with the North now, aren't we?"

"After your brother," Addy made sure to spit the word like a drunken man, "killed the Lord Stark, the North wasn't too pleased," she explained simply. Myrcella nodded, clearly not taking any information in.

"Oh. Well, today's schedule is," she reached for a slightly crumpled piece of paper on her drawer, "well, embroidery, and cooking, and-" she was interrupted by Addy grabbing the paper from her.

"There's no way I'm letting you do all that boring rubbish. Let's explore," she said temptingly. Addy was stepping out of her station, she knew that well, but this naive young princess could be her key out of this place. "I don't know the castle very well at all," she whined. Myrcella reflected on the offer, a hint of child-like doubt in her eyes.

"Maybe..."


	5. The Lion’s Den

"Well, do you miss home?" Myrcella asked as the two bounced down the stairs, a guard following them religiously down the corridors. Addy nodded gruffly. No matter how much the princess pushed she would not let out a single crumb of vulnerability. 

"Sometimes," she replied curtly, walking blindly down corridors she'd never seen before. The orangey wooden walls were covered with paintings and tales of victory and war that looked like they'd been there for centuries. Some of them even had dragons in them, spewing golden flames from their jaws at hoards of knights. Myrcella nodded, still relatively unused to blunt answers.

"Where are we going?" she asked, being sure to nod her head at everyone she passed politely. Addy didn't even care to look as she aimlessly trailed the paths.

Unhelpfully, Addy shrugged, letting out a small excuse of a grin. Myrcella giggled, jogging to keep up with Addy's quick pace. "I've never been in this part of the castle before." This section looked less used then the bustling Red Keep the Princess was used to. Spiderwebs lined the walls, wallpaper cracked like glass and mould crept up the corners like sprawling ivy. Only a few servants shuffled past them, their faces obviously confused by the royal's presence. Addy huffed at her concern.

"You need to live some. What’s the point in staying in what you know,” she said playfully, dragging her into a small side room the size of a small hut. Plump, forgotten cushions sat on a damp window seat, that looked through a dirty excuse for a window. A bookshelf stood lonely in the corner, times gathering dust sitting patiently. Myrcella winced before Addy flopped onto the filthy looking seat. "I used to have a seat like this at home," she said, a hint of misery in her voice. Myrcella smiled sympathetically, sitting beside her handmaiden, making sure her dress didn't touch the dust. 

“You do miss home, don't you?" she said softly, without a hint of mockery. Addy nodded again, looking back to the princess. Her normally glaring, cold eyes were sorrowful orbs. "The sea must be beautiful in the Grey Rock.” 

Addy sniffed. In King’s Landing, the sea was a sapphire blue, gently lapping on to the golden sands. In the Grey Rock, they were as black as dragon glass. 

Myrcella didn't know her way around the castle very well much to Addy's surprise, as they aimlessly walked around empty corridors and old gardens. Exploration wasn't much her strong suit, even though she'd explored every nook and cranny of Fishguard. She'd often slept under trees, ate berries she was sure were edible and giggled through rain when she got lost, which was most of the time. Eventually, Kilaban would find her, drag her back to Nana's and scold her. Didn't stop her.

"Everyone's waking up now," Myrcella smiled as she passed the lords and ladies that started to fill the halls, with tired eyes and sore noses. They gave Addy suspicious glances and stern stares. Stubbornly, Addy refused to look at them, or even acknowledge their existence. "I think it's time for breakfast now, perhaps Mother will let you join us. Joffery doesn't really like eating with us anymore." Addy nodded, secretly terrified of the thought of the queen. Quietly, they made their wayback.

"I think you'd be better off alone, my Lady," Addy said after a minutes of walking. A little surprised, Myrcella flashes her a look of confusion, before nodding politely.

"Oh. Why don't go back to my bedroom, and I'll ask someone to send you up some breakfast?" she suggested. "Reena will be arriving soon. We shall go check before we eat!" the curly-haired girl exclaimed, taking Addy's hand once again, this time securing her grip. Leading her up towers of staircases, she took them to her bedroom. Myrcella ran to a mousy-haired girl, hugging her tightly.

Long, ashy brown hair ran down her back, plaited neatly, small flowers implanted into the braids. A green, flimsy dress hugged her small figure comfortably, laced with golden thread. The dress was a bright contrast to her tan, and her dull brown eyes. She looked older, around ten, and stood a good foot taller then Myrcella and practically towering over Addy. Apprehensively, she glared up to Addy, who was standing cross-armed in the corner.

"My lady, who might this be?" she demanded softly. Addy wasn’t expecting the fabled Reena to be as kind as Myrcella and it seemed she had predicted correctly. She was a woman, fourteen or so, much older than the other girls. 

"Addy, my new handmaiden. My mother took her as a ward," Myrcella explained, letting out of what Addy supposed was...Reena. They stared at each other like soldiers charging for war. Awkwardly, Myrcella slipped through their harsh glares. "Well, I'm going to go down for breakfast. See you later." The princess left the room quickly. Perhaps she knew what was coming. 

"A bastard?" Reena scoffed, putting her hands on her small hips. Her almond shaped eyes were too big for her face; she looked like a walking drawing. "I can't believe they let you go near the princess. How on earth did you manage this?”

"No need to worry, m’lady," she said coldly. "And who are you?” 

“Lady Reena Payne.” 

“Oh, the executioner,” Addy said simply. Reena snapped her head back to glare at the smaller girl. 

Huffing, Reena stormed out the room and right down the stairs. Watching her go, Addy flopped herself onto Myrcella's plump bed, murmuring curses under her breath. It wasn't long, maybe half an hour or so, before the women returned. 

"Addy, how dare you insult Lady Reena like that?" Lady Edlyn lectured as she entered the room. "She is a royal handmaiden and-"

"She called me a bastard. She's lucky I didn't kick her pretty little face in," Addy interrupted. The blood seemed to drain from Edlyn's face as Addy looked up to her. "What?"

“If you want to survive here, you’d better start behaving,” she warned. “The Queen has never taken a ward in herself before. That means you represent her kindness- not your cruelty.” 

“Eh?” 

Edlyn sighed quietly. The tall woman crouched down to meet Addy’s eyes. “The Queen would like to see you for a moment. Promise me you won’t ruin this opportunity for yourself.” 

Addy didn’t think she’d ever get used to the sheer size of King’s Landing. Killaban said it could be the size of the islands themselves, maybe even bigger. Mantill Rock was like a cottage compared to this monster of red brick. 

Queen Cersei had begun to scare Addy more than the Hound. Venom and bitterness clouded her eyes, a poison that couldn’t be replicated by weapons or wildfire. 

“Your Grace, Addy of the Greystones,” Lady Edlyn introduced. She scuttled from the room. Carefully, Addy stepped forward. 

“I should really go about legitimatising you but I will admit, having one name suits you.”   
  


“Do last names mean much?” Addy asked. Naivety came too easily to her. Cersei smirked. 

“Oh, they mean _everything_ here. Every aspect of your future- your marriage, your duties, your home. It decides your life from the very moment you entered it.” 

Addy shrugged again, but listened carefully to her words. 

“I have given you a golden opportunity. No man or woman has every received this degree of mercy from me, let alone allowed be so close to my daughter.” 

“I’m a hostage,” Addy said. A wave of fear overcame her nerves very quickly as she sentenced herself. “Sometimes, mercy isn’t sparing a life, your Grace.” 

“Gods, aren’t you blunt.Efficient for torture, but dangerous," Cersei replied quickly, a ghost of a smile grazing her lips. “I’d be damned if I didn’t give you honesty. All wards are hostages, bastard. If your uncle joined the Northen Rebellion-”

"You'd kill me," Addy interrupted. Cersei scoffed.

"You don't belong here, bastard, do you?" Addy nodded quickly. "Not a lady or a knight. Just a lost child, left behind by her kin. Perhaps Myrcella will learn the consequences from your honesty. You’ll teach her who her enemies are.” 

"I can’t be an enemy without a weapon.” 

“You don’t need a weapon to be my enemy,” Cersei mused. “Addy, I can protect you. Your uncle can’t. He will never come for you.” 

“What would you have me do?” 

“You’ll know soon enough.” 


	6. Bran Stark

_She wasn't with that boy anymore. Strange, she almost missed him. Even though she was never able to speak during their dreams together, she felt connected to him in some...otherworldly way._

_No, she was in an animal. This wasn’t a rare occurrence; most of her dreams were dominated by these visions._

_She was in the dark sea, swimming through the blue leisurely. Gods, was she a fish? That's more then boring. The sun's light penetrated the sea's thick blue with rays of sunlight that only gave a small feeling of warmth in the freezing water. There was hardly a sound down there; just the ripple and distant roars of the waves crashing against sand._

_The bottom of the ocean was beautiful_ , Nana had often warned, but stay too long and you'll drown. But now she breathed in water, the water she'd been dragged out of so many times, the water that was cold and unforgiving to her skin before was natural to her now. Other grey fish swam aimlessly past her on their merry ways, searching for something.

She woke up panting, sweat lining her forehead and palms. A small trickle of something wet and sickly warm was trickling from her nose. Addy, still breathing heavily, held a finger to her nostril. It returned dripping with red.

Quickly, she searched for something to stop the blood before it got all over her only nightgown and stain it forever. She'd known that terror of returning home with bloody trousers, and having to help Sidra painfully scrub it out. She instinctively grabbed a bunch of dried petals that smelled so strongly her eyes watered, and held them near her nose. Sitting still on her bedside, she waited until the blood subsided. 

No sunlight had crept into the room as of yet; meaning Myrcella was hours away from waking, as well as many of the servants. Addy could never get used to waking up after sunrise. The urge to run down to the fish market hasn’t faltered.

But there was a fragment of her home here, albeit small and distant. Myrcella mentioned a Godswood to her, sensing her homesickness, however the attempt wasn’t the most in touch. The Greystone Isles’ islands religion was more than complicated. A convoluted mixture of Old Gods, stray Free Folk veins and a unique one, centred on a Sea King. 

Nevertheless, she scrubbed and rubbed her nose until she was sure it was free of dried blood, lifted a small, humble green red dress over her shoulders and made her way to the Godswood.

Sitting in the wood, she listening intently to the sounds around her. The early morning sun beckoned hoardes of tired merchants and those who'd woken early, which one could hear quietly in the distance. Instead, Addy focused on the rustle of the leave, the murmur of a cool breeze and the groan of waving branches. It reminded her even more of home; she found bitter starts of tears in her eyes she quickly wiped away.

 _No,_ she scolded herself, _it's for the good of all of them. They deserve to life even if I have to pay the price._

 _Could she be more alone_? Could she be more isolated then she'd ever been in this horrible red keep? Her only company were the old oak trees that bared the lines of bark instead of her gods. 

"What are you doing here?" a familiar voice asked. Addy grunted, turning around to face the figure. "You're supposed to be helping the princess get ready." Lady Edlyn sat down next the girl. Addy had never thought she worshipped like her, she seemed much too Southern.

“She doesn’t wake up til sunrise. Even then, she refuses to get up unless she sees the sun.” 

“Don’t expect much obedience from a princess, let alone a Lannister,” Edlyn smiled. Addy struggled not to trust her. She pulled the girls dress, scratching at a spot of dried blood Addy had missed. “Fighting already?” 

"Nosebleeds. They’re bad," Addy stated, standing still. The olive-skinned woman looked down at her inquisitively, then bent over to her height.

"What would make you say that?" she asked. She was a tall lady, grazing six feet. Her husband was just an inch taller, and they towered over everyone at court.

"I had a nosebleed when I woke. It happens every time I dream that..I'm an animal," she explained, embarrassment flushing her face. She thought I sounded so stupid. But it was true. Ever since she was a girl, she'd had dreams where she's scuttle along yellow beaches as a crab, swim freely as a silver-scaled fish, flew as an eagle over the mountains of the Isle. Lady Edlyn knelt down, but still stood taller then the petite Addy. "I don't understand why."

"I've never heard of anything like that before," Lady Edlyn muttered, brushing a stray blonde hair out of Addy's face. "Don't worry child. I will arrange a meeting with a Maester at once. Does it happen regularly?" Addy shrugged, and said something about it happening around every week or so. Lady Edlyn stared at the Addy's unfazed face in confusion. Her mature face frowned, taking Addy's rough hands and lead her towards an unfamiliar place in the Red Keep.

The swollen sun had just began to rise over the bustling castle. The red tiles almost burned Addy's tired eyes. Lady Edlyn lead her through creaky hallways filled with ripped tapestries of stags and lions tearing apart dragons. The lady was quick; her dainty, light pink dress fluttered with the breeze of her speed.

As the journey went on, a strong smell of incense stung her eyes and there was a faint taste of herbs on her tongue. The corridors become more sparse as they continued until they were completely alone, with no lords, ladies or servants crossing the halls, just stern, amounted guards.

Lady Edlyn slowed down when they reached the dead end of a huge, oaken door. As she went to knock, a red-headed girl in an almost see-through dress ran past them, her face sullen with annoyance. Lady Edlyn pulled Addy closer to her hip, snorting in disgust. Addy wanted to ask why, but her mouth wouldn't comply. Perhaps it was nerves.

After the red-haired girl was long gone, Lady Edlyn composed herself and pounded on the door. They waited. And waited. And waited. Addy pushed her sleeve up to her nostrils to cut off the pungent smells coming from the tower. 

“Lady Edlyn, why are we here?" Addy asked quietly, loosening her hand from the lady's grip, slowly remembering she couldn’t trust. 

In fact, the only people she had fragments of faith in were Lady Edlyn and Myrcella. But Myrcella was a Lannister, with the green eyes of a liar. As for Lady Edlyn, she didn't know what to think of the woman. Feebly, the door was opened.

The Grand Maester was old. Ancient, perhaps. His worn face with so full of wrinkles and saggy skin his eyes were barely visible. A heavy chain hung around his neck over his warm yellow robe. The smell of paper, crushed herbs and candles overwhelmed her. He smiled crookedly, most of his teeth missing. "Ah, Lady..."

"Edlyn," the agitated woman interrupted. Addy desperately wanted to hide behind her skirt. "Grand Maester, this is Addy, the new ward taken by Queen Cersei." The Maester nodded, stroking his straggly, white beard. It reached the low-hanging chain around his neck.

"Yes...yes. What would be...be the problem, then? Sickness? First blood at her age?"He stammered. His whole aura seemed so cowardly and weak, so vulnerable. Not the good kind. Addy took the lady's hand again. This was not a venture she wanted to go through alone.

"No, Grand Maester. May we discuss this inside?" Lady Edlyn insisted rather than asking. The Grand Maester nodded, and opened the door further. His tower was filled to the brim with huge tomes, full of ancient words and symbols Addy couldn't understand.

Huge candles dropped litres of wax down onto forgotten papers or unlucky books. Various herbs and remedies lined clumsy shelf, each one boasting an eye-watering smell. He lead them to what used to be a desk, covered in important looking papers and drawings. He gently moved them out of the way, and sat down on a grand...stool. Lady Edlyn perched over a broken chair and Addy settled on a cushion placed on a stack of books.

"So, I...what troubles you, little one?" he trembled.


	7. The Sense

"Ah, a...a warg is an...individual that can, can en-enter the minds of animals, and, and can perceive the world through...through an animal's senses. They, can even...eurgh, what was it? Ah, yes, yes, they can even try to enter into a human's mind, but it hasn't been attempted to my...my knowledge. But there have been no reporting the existence of wargs for hundreds of years..." Addy shuffled in her chair, waiting for the diagnosis to be a joke.

Timidly, she stared at the Grand Maester as he droned on and on, shaking at almost every word. Lady Edlyn was aghast, her mouth open. "But...but I do not know at the moment. Perhaps...perhaps it is just a, a ring of coincidences..." he stuttered, looking up from the huge book he was reading from.

“It would make sense,” Edlyn said, lifting up Addy’s chin. “The Greyrock’s got its share of wilding blood. Old blood. It’s not been filtered like normal Northen blood.” 

"I don't understand," Addy mumbled quietly, her lip quivering. The Grand Maester looked a tad surprised as well. Lady Edlyn stood up and motioned Addy to stand with her.

"Shall we return tomorrow, Grand Maester, when you acquire more...suitable testing material?" she asked, subtlety pointing at a caged parrot on the desk. It squawked aggressively at the lady, who didn't even flinch. The Maester nodded, muttering something about him being free tomorrow morning. "Very well. Farewell, Grand Maester."

This time, Addy didn't admire the walls. She didn't care to look at the servants that huddled past. Still shivering, she simply stared in front of her in a pure sense of dread. Lady Edlyn didn't speak; she couldn't. Addy's throat clenched with every breath, closing in on her like a snake coiled around its prey. Her chest felt heavy like it was weighing her entire body down, and she could hear her heart pound quickly in her ears.

"Where are you taking me?" Addy croaked. Her hands had started to grip Lady Edlyn's hand tight, cracking her small fingers.

"Back to the princess' quarters," she said, "Addy, you will carry on the day as normal. You will not speak a word of this to anyone until the Maester confirms this...this warg madness. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Lady Edlyn."

"Go back to bed and _stay there.”_

The day went by much too slowly for Addy's taste. She could hardly bring herself to speak, spending most of the day in deadly silence as Myrcella and Reena chattered on. They seemed to be getting along without Addy's input. Without any success, she'd been trying to get it out of her head. Once or twice, Myrcella distracted her for a few seconds. Just a few. 

_Oh, how she longed to go home now._ She longed to hold her bow, the old wooden thing, and fire it one more time, to feel the sharp string graze her flesh, the thrill of the arrow piercing the canvas. There was nothing for her here. Nothing of substance. 

A warg? To be perfectly honest, she had no idea what the old man meant. Nana used to her tell her long winded stories about men who could go into the minds of animals, but they were just stories, thousands of years old told by her Free Folk ancestors. It wasn’t a death sentence but it was a curse nonetheless. 

During Myrcella's riding lesson, the only class that Addy showed any interest in, the princess made an attempt at conversation.

"What troubles you, Addy? Still missing home?" she asked, pulling her groomed mare towards Addy's messy colt. Addy didn't have a horse at home; she rode with Kilaban on his huge, black stallion that towered even higher than Lady Edlyn. The horse the stable-boy had apprehensively given was a young, rapid thing, with a straight brown mane and thin legs. She was found of the mount, and him of her. Addy shrugged. Reena trotted up to the girls. Her face wasn't as sour as it was the day before, a rare surprise that would've lightened Addy's mood heavily if it weren't for her current circumstances.

"I don't feel too well, m'lady," she lied, bouncing along the roads with her horse. The grass was so green here, the flowers and shrubs so vibrant, the tracks straight and true. Orderly. Order was not something Astrid was used to. The roads of the Greystone Islands were muddy and wide to allow horse and cart through. Kilaban had never let her ride alone; he would always be behind her on that huge black horse. The ride was rocky, not smooth and cobbled like the roads of King Landing. The paths were small and isolated here.

"Why didn't you say so earlier?" Reena asked. "You could've stayed in bed all day." For the first time, she seemed to smile sincerely. Addy guessed the septa gave her a stern telling-off after the...incident. Grimly, Addy managed a miserable smirk.

"Why didn't I think about that?" she said, her voice raw like a fresh wound. Every time she spoke, her voice seemed to claw at her throat, no matter how much water she sipped, the feeling wouldn't surrender.

"Do you want to turn around?" Myrcella asked, her face concerned. Addy shook her head, gesturing to her throat. "Oh, alright." The sympathy in her voice more apparent than Reena. The princess was truly a strange girl; sneering at the beggars but begging her mother to gift them with food and clothes. An anomaly. 

Addy let herself move with her horse, occasionally slipping dangerously around the saddle. The trousers she'd grown used to didn't protect her now, and the leather chafed against her bony thighs raw. Trying to take her mind off the maester, she focused on the stinging pain in her throat and legs. When that didn't work, she listened to Reena and Myrcella's dull conversation about dresses. 

After they reached the subject of colours of silk, Addy gave up.

At the dinner table, the princess wasn't summoned for dinner with the King. She would be graced with the presence of the Queen and Prince Tommen as Reena described it. Addy couldn't blame her for sucking up to the royals; she was a noble lady. Wasn't that what they were trained for? The table was outside in the sweet and humid summer air, with plates full with dishes of red venison, succulent rabbits, sliced carrots, mashed potatoes and pork pies as big as her head.

She hadn't really got used to the sudden change in food (and everything else) in King's Landing. In the harshest days in the Isle, she'd be lucky for a scrap of stale bread. 

Quietly, she sat down beside Myrcella, opposite the sickly, young prince and his arrogant-looking friends. The Queen has at the head of the table, sipping from a golden goblet, gazing out to the beautiful sunset. The dinner wasn't silent: Myrcella and Reena chattered whilst the prince's friends bragged about their non-existent muscles. The Queen discussed lives with her handmaidens. Addy decided to listen to the princess' conversation as she nibbled at a chunky slice of salted pork. Every swallow killed her. Just out of her corner of her eye, she could see the Queen and one of the little lords staring at her like prey to predator.

She couldn't blame them. She was scrappy and hungry, the very people they'd been trained to despise all their lives. The people that worked for them, cleaned for them, their own people. Amazingly fair. And to think, just days ago, she'd had the nerve to think the Queen respected her. _She was just entertainment to them, wasn’t she?_

By the time the plates that been removed, Addy had managed a decent portion of pork, potatoes and peas that would've lasted her a full day in the Isle. After that, a servant asked her what she would like for pudding, listing many cakes and desserts that sounded heavenly. She asked for the one that sounded the biggest. 

"So, Addy, how have you found court?A huge change, I suppose," the Queen said when Addy stared for a little too long. Shuffling in her seat, she awkwardly nodded. "Myrcella tells me you have grown awfully quiet. What troubles you?"

"Addy has a sore throat. She told me so when we were riding, Mother," Myrcella chirped in helpfully. The Queen smiled courteously.

"I see. I hope you are well soon, in time for King Joffery's name day tournament. A grand affair," The Queen said, turning to address everyone on the table. The two boys seated by the prince nodded eagerly, flashing huge grins. Reena shared the same enthusiasm.

No wonder, during their small trip, she wouldn't stop going on about handsome knights in shiny, golden amour. Myrcella and Tommen agreed more timidly, with Tommen letting out a meek smile. The boy looked feeble, with a smile as gentle as the summer breeze. One could very easily mistaken the little lording to his left as the prince himself; he had blonde hair but startling grey eyes. Addy had caught him staring at her multiple times, and glared right back at the lording.

That night was cold. Addy shivered under the covers, scrunching up the linen around her. Even though her old blankets were old and scrappy, they were much warmer then these excuses for warmth. She dreaded the next morning like a gruesome execution, but at least tried to get a scrap of sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Addy woke up with a nosebleed again. This time she wiped the blood with the hand, watching it dry on her fingers as she waited for Lady Edlyn to arrive. She'd woken at the sun's earliest, and the guards outside were minutes away from a shift change. She asked for a bowl of water. The guards looked at her bloody hand strangely, nodded, then went back to their duties. Soon, a rather scared looking servant came in with a small wooden bowl and placed it in her lap, then scurried away.

Lady Edlyn made her grand entrance as Addy was scrubbing her face.

"Addy, you have blood smudged all over your face. Nosebleed?" she asked, kneeling down. She rolled her long, draped sleeves up, cupping the water and splashing the girl's face. Addy let her do it. She was in no mood to stubbornly refuse anything today. Edlyn had gentle hands but rubbed ferociously. "Now, let's get you dressed." Lady Edlyn browsed through piles of over-sized dresses, smiling at the neat packages. She pulled out a dress the colour of dandelions and pulled it over Addy's small shoulders. "I will have to make you some dresses that will fit soon enough," she said as she pulled the fabric to the back and pinned it in place. For once, it didn't look terrible.

In silence, Lady Edlyn took Addy's hand and led to her to the Grand Maester.

"These books will let you...learn about your possible abilities," the maester murmured, giving two huge books to Lady Edlyn. They were almost crusted with age and looked even older than the Grand Maester himself. "I've sent for an expert from Old Town...he'll arrive soon enough, but the war with the North has caused some...notable delays." Last Edlyn nodded for the girl, whose face was sullen with confusion.

"Grand Maester, I ask you to keep this a secret. Miss Snow is in enough danger as it is, and I'm sure this is worsening the situation," Lady Edlyn said, struggling under the weight of the dusty tomes in her arms. She neglected to mention she was barely literate. 

"Of course. If I spread every secret I knew..." he stopped half-way in almost every sentence, "they would be no one left in the Red Keep." Lady Edlyn forced a laugh while Addy glared at the maester icily. Soon, the time came to leave, much to Addy's joy. She was still terrified and was shivering even in the radiant heat of the south.

Addy spent the rest of the sunrise trying to understand what in the hells the books the maester had given her. The pages almost crumbled in her hands and the ink was yellow with age. When she heard Myrcella finally start to stir, she tucked the book neatly under her bed. The confusing words had lead her to even more terror. Hopefully, the expert from Oldtown would help, even train her. Lady Edlyn had told her to return to her duties, to pretend nothing was wrong. Sore throat it was, then.

Weeks passed as slowly as time would allow. The scholar arrived, thank the faceless, and actually knew a thing or two about warging. He still questioned it's existence, but experimented with her none the less. He made her sit down with him every single morning and try to warg into a scrawny old raven he'd taken with him. It smelled like death and rotting lettuce, and every time she walked into his chambers bile rose up to her throat.

She managed to do it a few times, much to the grim scholar's delight. He was overjoyed to be perfectly honest, praising the Gods. He'd deciphered the old books she'd been given, cursing the maester as an old enemy. He'd even the translations down so she could properly read them at night before she blew the candle on her bedside.

The feeling was sickly, disjointed. Like she wasn’t supposed to be doing this. But still, she couldn't shake away the fear. The fear of power. 

"Men would kill for your abilities, Miss Snow. Wargs are incredibly rare in the South and incredibly powerful," the scholar warned one day, as she stared at the raven. "Magic was once a mighty force. You are but a fragment."

"Do you think those men will kill me?" she asked grimly, her eyes locking with the bird. It cawed warningly, flapping its bony wings in the limited space of the metal cage. Gods, she hated that animal. The scholar grinned, his wrinkled face contorting with the smile.

"Not if you kill them first, child. Now, try again." Addy squinted her eyes, concentrating her brain. It almost flowed into the bird. She cawed triumphantly, looking at herself. Her limp body sat still as stone on a chair, eyes glazed over with a sickly white. After the scholar nodded, she almost let herself go and returned back into her body. Once again, blood trickled from her nose. "Strange. I have never seen anything like this. Perhaps it takes a bigger toll on your body than I previously thought." After a minute of tense silence, he finally spoke. "I leave King's Landing tomorrow."

"Don't leave, please! You're the only person in this place who knows what they're doing!" she begged.

"I have duties back at Oldtown, little lady. You may send letters if you need me." He took the girl's hand. "Addy, I sense power in you that I can't start to explain. I have only taught you the basics. Look over the notes I left you, tell no one who you are. Jealousy has killed more men then you will," the scholar explained, taking a scoop of corn. The raven cawed. Addy sat silently, focusing on every word intently.

"Trust kills more men then jealousy," Addy said bitterly, thinking of Ned Stark's rotting, headless corpse.

"You are better then you think, lady. Remember that and keep yourself out of trouble. Relish in the fact you are a bastard. Enjoy court life while you still can. At least pretend to like these lords and ladies. Return to me once you are released. I'll be waiting for you, and your full training can begin."

Addy wanted to scream at the little man, to pull out the little dagger sheathed around her waist and threatened him into submission. She glared at the scholar. "Take your leave." Trying her hardest to stay calm, she walked out of the room, ran back to Myrcella's waiters and screamed into a pillow. She was not waiting that long, and she was patient by all standards. Doubt clouded her mind if she would ever leave King's Landing, never mind be released. One does not leave the lion's den so easily.

Proposing herself up, she looked at the rising sun. Maybe she could sell one of Myrcella's necklaces, hire a carriage, go home. But then she imagined Kilaban's furious old face and decided against it. But a trip outside would do her some good, wouldn't it? She could get down to the beach for an hour or two before Myrcella woke. From her room, she could only see the vast blue ocean. 

Addy didn't want to spend her days changing linens, brushing hair and folding dresses. Due to her lower status, she had been assigned the unfavourable tasks of handmaidens, including the emptying of the chamber pot. What would she achieve here?

And so it was decided on a whim. She was already wearing a simple brown tunic and trousers (she never wore dresses to go see the scholar, she didn't need to look pretty). Managing a small smile, she rummaged through her drawer until she felt the hard wooden handle. She pulled out her old bow. Kilaban had just about snuck it into her clothes. She hung the quiver over her shoulder, lodging the bow and its string across her chest. Then, she dared.

Slowly, she opened her window and looked down towards the ground. If she fell, it would be to her almost certain death. Cautiously, she swung herself over the window sill, her legs hanging from the tower. She planted a foot into the tower's brick, yelping when it slipped unexpectedly. Composing herself, she carefully climbed down the anxious tower, her chest tightened. It was sweet relief, like cool water on a sunny day, when her boot finally hit the grass. The land only stretched a few metres before a rocky sheer drop. She sidled across the tower before she could finally walk freely. The sea called to her like an old friend as she sat down on the cliff, but she refused. She was already pushing boundaries by wearing trousers, let alone climbing down a tower.

Satisfied, she almost forgot the morning's events. Suddenly, there was a shout. Addy's head flicked behind her. It was the little lording who'd been staring at her during dinner. The boy had angry eyebrows, which seemed to radiate a fuming tension. Instinctively, she reached out for her bow, grabbed an arrow, lodging it in the string. The lording laughed.

"Ladies don't use bows," he grinned, walking towards her foolishly.

"This lady does. Leave me alone," she sneered back, her bow drawn. The arrow glistened in the morning sun, shining into Addy's eyes.

The boy put a hand on his excuse for a sword. It was a little thing, the only interesting aspect was a small ruby embedded in the hilt. "Do you like it? Valerian steel, my father bought it for me."

"It must be nice having a daddy buy you everything. Did you buy the hair as well?" Addy teased, frowning.

"If I tell Queen Cersei you're here, you'll be punished, bastard," he snapped, with a grin slyer then a snake. "What are you going to do, shoot me?" He pulled out his sword, obviously struggling under its weight. She was no master of the sword, but Addy was sure she'd handle the blade much better. It didn't even look heavy; it was a tiny thing, like a needle.

"That's the plan, yes. No one would believe a little lording was shot by that poor bastard, ward of Queen Cersei herself," she said, aiming the arrow onto its target but with no intent to shoot. The lording scowled.

"Nice bow. Did you steal it?" he asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Addy managed a bitter grin. Without warning, he lunged, sword in hand. Addy ducked, an arrow flying use. It punctured his thick leather shoulder pad, earning a cry of pain as he yanked it out. "You'll pay for that, bastard!" Addy stumbled back up to her feet and dodged another blow. He was no expert, his skills rather primitive with a blade.

Frustrated, he threw his useless sword at Addy, scratching her cheek, and sending the blade off the cliff. Swords in a child’s hands posed little threat. Addy let out a confused grunt, putting a hand to her cheek before the lording grabbed her bow.

She panicked. With all her might, she shoved the boy away, kicking him off his balance for good measure. He wavered away, before grasping the bow again.

"Go away!" she screamed, thrusting him away. Before he could even yelp, he fell. Addy watched in horror as the lording plunged down into the jagged rocks below. There was a crunch of bone, a small whine, then just the sound of waves. Shaking, Addy peered over the edge. The lording was dead. His sword was metres away, stuck in a rock pool. She shouted at him. No answer, just the caw of seagulls begging for crumbs.

Gaping, Addy backed away. She wasn't sure if she could climb all the way back up the castle. She couldn't go all the way around unless she wanted an earful from Lady Edlyn and, of course, be tried for murder. Lifting up her hands, she observed the scratches and cuts on her hands, earned from sharp corners of bricks and untrustworthy moss.

Shivering, she stumbled back. Tears threatened to brim her eyes. Taking a huge breath in, she dug her hand into a nook in the brick. Pulling herself up, she grudgingly made the climb back with aching hands and a throbbing head. 

Life had been snuffed as quickly as it began. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh oh i hope she doesn’t become numb to loss ahah 😐


	9. The Cliffs

By the time Addy had swung herself over the window sill, she was caked in sweat and covered in jagged cuts and brightly-coloured bruises. Her breath was as ragged as the frayed shirt that was barely clinging onto life. It had taken her longer to get back up. By the time she'd pulled herself up the tower, the sun was up and ready for the day.

She glanced back to the fallen lording. His body was just a speck from here. Nothing. She could almost scream in fear; someone would find his body eventually. What if she was accused? She'd hang, ward or not. She shoved the bow and quiver into the drawer, tucked under a mountain of dresses. Stripping to a shirt that hung inches below her waist, she stuffed her once cherished clothes under the bed, in a dusty chest filled with very old books. Exhausted and trembling, Addy fell onto her bed, not catching any sleep. 

A month passed, and the memory only faltered a little. 

The cuts on her hands and cheek stung like a wasp, and the bruises on her knee and knuckles ached horribly. In the other room, she could hear the faint sound of Myrcella stirring in her bed. Her pillow had spots of dried, crusted blood. She tried to pick it off with fingernails, as well as the dried blood from her nose. She quickly wiped it off with a bowl of lukewarm water the servants left every morning. Her hair already braided, she slipped on a basic grey dress.

Looking in the mirror, she noticed who troubled she really looked. Her face wasn't as thin before, but dark circles surrounded her eyes. Her lips were swollen and cracked, her nose red, her skin a pale peach. The slice on her cheek was too noticeable; a long, thin red line accompanied by a sizeable purple bruise.

For a moment, she looked like her old self. As she pulled out a thick splinter out of her thumb (which she presumed was broken as it was purple and throbbing) Reena swung her door open. "What happened to you?" She asked sharply, raising an eyebrow.

"I dropped a pot," Addy lie numbly, glaring at the girl in her doorway, "What do you want?"

"You are to brush the princess' hair. She wants you to plait it as well, so get to it, bastard," Reena said, quickly leaving. Her energy depleted, she couldn't be bothered to scowl back.

Myrcella was siting patiently on the bed, cross-legged and smiling. Addy took the heel-encrusted brush from Reena's hands and started to comb Myrcella's golden locks despite her shaking hands. The princess looked valiantly at herself in the mirror, often opening her mouth to speak but only to falter.

"Addy, I was thinking..."

She paused. 

"You've been awfully quite for a long time. I was wondering if you'd like to go to the beaches? We have our own little section, so they'll be no one around, just us." Addy noted she'd forgotten guards existed, a common habit the princess displayed. "And you splash in the sea if you'd like. Mother will be there too."

For once, Addy smiled. Myrcella seemed almost brimmed with excitement. "That would be lovely, m'lady."

"So it's done. You," she called to a servant who laid fruit onto the bowl on the cupboard. "Could you tell the guards to tell my mother we would go to the beach now?" The servant nodded, head down, and scuttled out the room, like a lonely crab. Addy kneaded the princess' hair skilfully but painfully, with sore, now purplish fingers. It was no huge injury; Addy had broken and bent every single one of her frail fingers, leaving the pinky of her left hand bent irreversibly.

_..._

_**THE GREY STONE ISLANDS**_

_Mantill Rock_

_"If we publicly join the Starks, the Isle will burn and she'll die. If we stay with the Lannisters, the Isle will burn and she'll die," Kenne said grimly, sticking her spear into the soft sand. Kilaban stared coldly out to sea. His squire was his closest friend, but never had much of a positive outlook. _

_"We are close to Casterly Rock. A day's sail. There's talk of rebellion in the Iron Isles. Our woman in Pyke said so herself," Kilaban said back. "The islands will not burn. Honour must be sacrificed if it means saving lives."_

_"Saving lives? You know what the Lannisters do to bastards like you and her. Their army is huge, Kilaban. Tywin can toss away two thousand men like the ashes of the Mad King."_

_"You were telling me weeks ago we must make sacrifices for war. What has changed you?"_

_"There was a raven. From King's Landing. From a scholar, not Addy," she quickly said before Kilaban could have some hope. "She cannot stay in King's Landing. She must return to the islands. And-"_

_"And how do you suggest doing that, Kenne? Sail off shit-faced? Show our arses to the boy king and his mother and expect them to just let her go?"_

_"Fake an illness. Stage your tragic death. Then, our alliance won't be officially broken, and Addy will be safe at home. We can crush the rebellion in the Iron Isles with enough men. They only know to rape and pillage. We can join the Starks." Kilban turned around to his_ _squire. She was a strong woman, with short black hair and a huge, muscled chest. "I serve the King in the North."_

_"I serve the boy king." Kilaban drew his sword. "You fight honourably. Honour is what killed Lord Stark. Honour is what made the Kingslayer the Kingslayer. Honour will get you fuck-all in King's Landing."_

_“I’m warning you. We will burn.”_

...

"It's cold!" Myrcella whined as she dipped her fingers into the salty water. Addy has submerged her hands in the blue waves. Salt water was always good for cuts, that's what Nana had told her. Reena was even more reluctant. A little spray was enough to send her running. 

"That's how the sea is, m'lady. You can't tell the sea to warm up, the same way you can't tell flowers to bloom in winter," Addy replied, biting her lip as the salt stung her. Myrcella whined again, taking her hand out. Addy could feel the Queen's eyes burning into the back of her head. Lady Edlyn was nowhere to be seen, unfortunately.

"In our history lessons, my teacher told us the people of the Greyrock are savage and cruel. He told me they drown their criminals and drown their kings," Myrcella admitted as she dipped her hands back in the water, swirling to make little bubbles.

"He must have us confused with the Iron Isles. We fish, sell and fight," Addy said. "We drowns our criminals, like them. But we don't drown kings, m'lady. In the olden days, they would." Addy took her hands from the water. She took her step back. Suddenly, she felt a shoe kick her ankle, twisting her leg and sending her to the ground. The ground, in her case, was the sea.

"Reena!" Myrcella cried as Addy sat almost patiently in the sea. Sodden, she stared at the Payne girl.

"It's alright m'lady. I'm used to it." Defiantly, she stayed in the water. Faintly, she could hear the quiet gasps of ladies and the disapproving look of the Queen. Without a second thought, Addy pulled Reena's leg.

"You'll ruin my dress!" she screamed, horrified. Myrcella glanced back to mother, who has shaking her head. Smiling, she jumped into the water, enthusiasm filling her bright laugh.

Without saying much, the rest of the day was spent scolding, crying, laughing and sowing.


	10. A Friend

"My new gown shall be encrusted with rubies, mother said so herself," Myrcella said as they played in the courtyard. Addy's Northern games, she'd decided, we're much too rough for the princess.

"I'm sure you'll like the finest there, m'lady," Addy said. There was no gruffness to her words anymore; Addy spent almost every waking moment with Myrcella. She was soft and warm, a far cry from the rumoured stubbornness of a Baratheon.

"I shall also ask Lady Edlyn to sow new one for you. It pains me to see you in borrowed dresses."

"Aye, m'lady," Addy replied. Addy glanced over to her fellow handmaiden, Reena, who sat disinterested on the fountain wall. She's declared herself much too old for children's game, much preferring the company of embroidery than 'children'.

"It very much suits you," Reena said slyly, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Simple dresses match simple minds."

"I'll push you into the sea again, Lady Reena. Ruin your flimsy robes in a heatbeat," Addy snapped as Myrcella took her hand. Myrcella giggled into her shoulder. Reena scowled. The governess looked on happily, but disapprovingly as Reena mumbled curse words she'd probably learned from Addy.

"Lady Reena?" the governess called. Her face looked grim now as another woman whispered something in her ear. Myrcella paid no heed, frolicking carefree in the flower beds while Reena made her way to the other women.

...

"Only Lady Reena will be attending to the princess. You'll stay in King's Landing as my mother's ward," Myrcella muttered, tears flooding down her cheeks. Addy sat still, almost unblinking, her face filled with despair.

"I wish you all the best, m'lady," Addy said quietly, staring into nothing. "I'm sure Dorne is a lovely place." Myrcella looked up.

"You are my friend. I love you," Myrcella sniffed. She pulled the sobbing girl and the staring girl into a messy hug. "But I have to do my duty."

 _Love_. Addy had realised something in the last few months about Myrcella. Addy loved Myrcella, but not in way the princess declared here. Addy hadn't dare told anyone- lest the her secret spread to the queen. Women weren't supposed to love each other and Addy severely doubted that Myrcella had any interest in her.

But even then, there could be a slim chance between them. But now, there was nothing. She would never see Myrcella again.

"My princess," Reena sighed. In time, her eyes stung and her throat burned, desperately begging to be able to cry, to sob. "I...would be honoured to join you to Dorne."

Reena glanced at Addy, who was entrapped by Myrcella's arms, and gave her a sympathetic glance.

"And Addy..." Myrcella perked up from Reena's arms with pained eyes. "You’re a good woman.” 

...

Slowly, the boat sailed out to the blue horizon. The sun boiled down onto the earth like fire, burning into Addy's face. Tearfully, Myrcella rocked in the boat, surrounded by strangers with tanned faces and yellow smiles. Addy was on her own, next to the snivelling prince. Joffery had told him to stop crying. Addy's eyes threatened to tear, but she stubbornly refused. Her job wasn't to cry and snivel; she was to be strong in front of the Queen. Not the King. As Myrcella sailed away with Reena, she thought about the other kings.

The other kings, she wasn't familiar with them. The little one, Renne...no, Renly, was dead. Now, the old one, yes, Kilaban had spoken fondly of him once or twice. Stannis Baratheon, held Storm's End in a great siege during the rebellion. But she'd heard whispers of invasion. She'd seen the barrels, the abundance of guards and the spears. She was good with a spear. Preferred the bow, but a spear was a hardy thing, a reliable one at that. It was rather hard to miss the stab of a spear.

The King lead the way pack, surrounded by Kingsguard more like a prisoner than a prince. By the shouts and jeers of the people, she could easily tell why. They were starving, hungry for a fight as well as bread. It was all so sudden. There was a splat, a shout, then metal.

One of the scrawnier ones, a lad not a day over fifteen lunged at her, clawing at her chest. Quickly, she kicked him in the groin and smacked her fist straight into his jaw. He screamed, blood spraying from his mouth. She scrambled to her feet, seeing a glimpse of auburn hair being herded away. _Sansa_. 

Hastily, she glanced at her surroundings. Chaos. But a small bit of hope. She swiftly grabbed a dead man's spear, still thick with blood, and waved it around her. Put of the corner of her stinging eyes, she saw the Stark run into a tunnel, followed by a group of men with spiteful and curdled smiles. "Hound!" She howled. He was a few feet away from her, thrusting his swords into a group of men. "Sansa!"

There were no seagulls. She could not risk warging, especially in front of the royal party. She'd hang as a witch or die with a broken neck and two knives in her chest.

It would hardly be worth the stress of even being near such a terrifying man but the Stark was in danger. 

She ran towards the tunnel, waving her spear into the bellies on anyone who came too close. By the time she'd stumbled into the tunnel, she was sodden with scarlet handprints. 

Gods, she hated her screams. She'd known for girl for months, spoken her to her twice, once as a girl and the other a fool, but a woman's scream...it was like a knife to the heart. They were ripping her dress, pulling her hair, pushing her legs out. Shrieking, she buried the shaft of her spear right into the middle one's face, feeling the metal pierce his skull and brain easily. Before she could blink, the Hound had slaughtered the rest of them. 

_Addy’s second kill. The second set do eyes she’d shut forever._

"You are safe now, little dove," the Hound said gently, offering a hand. The lady gladly took it. Her hands were shaking. Trustingly, the lady let the Hound carry over his strong shoulders.

Addy opened her mouth to speak, but stayed silent. "Think of an excuse for the blood, little bastard." Addy nodded obediently. Hesitantly, she took Lady Sansa's hand lightly giving a small excuse of a reassuring squeeze. 

Addy needed friends, preferably friends who aided her political standing. Rather mature goals for a woman girl pushing eleven. To everyone else, Sansa Stark was a lost cause, but having a lady in her debt was the next best thing. 

Gingerly, her fingers laced a bloody graze on her forehead. The blood from it trickled down her forehead slowly, stinging her eye. Silently, she begged the Gods to spare her face for a week or two.

It wasn't long until they reached the Red Keep and its glimmering towers. Instead of the scent of flowers and perfumes on her tongue, it was blood. Around her, ladies and lords were panicking, sending servants around hurriedly.

The Hound lowered Sansa down onto the floor. Addy stood on watched as her handmaidens crowded around the lady, brushing her hair back and comforting her. She could tell from the their look they were Southerners, women sent by Cersei to 'look after' her. She stared at the lady until someone handed her some bandages.

The Hound slumped down beside Addy. She flinched slightly as his mass weight thumped down next to her. 

“Do you know that you killed a man down there or do you think stuffing a spear through someone’s skull just knocks them out?” he said gruffly. 

Addy didn’t answer. She scooped her legs up defensively and stuffed her head into her sleeves. 

She caught the Stark’s blue eyes one last time before she was scooped away. 

“Soon, it’ll be a chore to me. Just like any other,” she mumbled, wincing as her injury twinged. 

...

"So I have to follow the Queen around everywhere?" Addy asked, grimacing. The rather scared lady glanced to the side. Poor thing. 

"Yes, my...miss. Unless she commands anything else," she explained, whimpering with every world. The girl didn't even look scared, or very frail. She was rather plump, red-faced and a kind smile. "Quite the step up from being a handmaiden."

Yes, dangerously so. Addy knew this was a highly exaggerated version of her duties; there was no way Cersei would like to keep her why closer, as such as useless ally. 

"While the Queen is in council meetings, you will attend small lessons. Your previous teacher showed...concern on your level of writing and reading," Lady Edlyn added. Her long, dark brown had been cut to her lean shoulders.

"I can read," Addy protested.

"The scholar that Grand Maester sent for has been paid to stay for a year. You like him, don't you?" Lady Edlyn said with a warm smile. Addy's glum face light up.

"And when you have free time, your uncle has arranged for sowing lessons," the other lady said. Addy's face dropped back into a miserable frown. "Do you understand, Miss?"

"Yes, m'lady," Addy answered. Her insides were churning impatiently; she couldn't tell if she was excited or frightened.

"Allow me to show you to your new chambers. At Princess Myrcella's request," she said as they trotted down the halls, "has a wonderful view of the sea." The little girl couldn't help a small smile. "Lady Edlyn would like to help you unpack. I'll leave you to it." The plump little lady shut the door quietly behind them.

It was a small chamber to Lady Edlyn, and a little cramped too. Her head grazed the ceiling. But to Addy, it was like a miniature palace. "I can't believe my uncle's making me do sowing. He always said 'me hands suit a sword more than a needle."

"Unless," she narrowed her eyes playfully at a letter, "Gill Saltworth is a prime stitching name in the Isle, I don't think you are actually sowing."

"He's a good man, he is. My uncle said he killed three Iron-Islanders with one stab," Addy giggled unnervingly. “But I’m not so sure the Queen would like me fighting.” 

There was a light knock at the door, and a boy popped out. He had wide, blushing cheeks and a mop of brown hair that grazed his thick brow.

"Miss? The Hand would like an audience with you," the boy said, smiling harmlessly. Her grin dropped, Addy looked up to Lady Edlyn with dread.

"Go, do as the boy says," the lady commanded, pushing her forwards. Reluctantly, she followed him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you were wondering, addy and the people of the greystones resemble mongolian people, with brown skin and monolid eyes. but because the islands are full of merchats many are black and white.  
>  however, addy is mixed with wilding blood and native greystone wasian queen


End file.
